


Momentum

by msrheadcanon



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cunnilingus, Emotional, Episode: s07e15 En Ami, Episode: s07e16 Chimera (X-Files), Episode: s07e17 All Things, Established Relationship, F/M, Lotus, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msrheadcanon/pseuds/msrheadcanon
Summary: The choices Scully makes in En Ami cause some unintended consequences for herself and her relationship with Mulder.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 35
Kudos: 193
Collections: Missing Scenes from my Headcanon





	1. Chapter 1

#### 

FRIDAY  
SPENDER'S FORMER OFFICE

> _“He knows what that science is worth, how powerful it is....He'd let nothing stand in his way.” - Mulder_
> 
> _“You may be right... but for a moment, I saw something else in him. A longing for something more than power. Maybe for something he could never have.” - Scully_

Scully wishes she could claim possession, body-snatching or any sort of ridiculous idea besides the one that she simply did something stupid. Mulder stands in front of her, arms braced on the doorway, waiting for a reasonable explanation. Why did she believe Spender? Why is she trying to paint him in a more sympathetic light? She thought she was doing the right thing at the time, but looking back she can’t believe she was so foolish. The silence stretches between them, his eyes filling with disappointment as he turns and walks away, leaving her standing in the empty room. 

Looking for some tangible proof of Spender’s presence, she scans the room one last time. Wonders why she’s even bothering since proof won’t give her the answers she needs. All of their experiences with him showed that he was nothing more than a liar, manipulating people for his own personal gain and twisted pleasure. Scully’s smart but she’s never been good at deception. Why did she think she could out-wit the man whose entire life was built on lies? Finding nothing in the room to ease her conscience, she reluctantly follows Mulder to his car. 

The last time she could remember this amount of tension between them was when Scully had voiced her suspicions to Mulder about Diana. They never talked about the hurt they’d caused one another back then, but that was their usual M.O. - never speaking about what mattered. Getting back to the X-Files, the foundation of their partnership, repaired the damage they'd inflicted upon one another. Shortly afterwards, they took the next monumental step in their relationship, finally admitting the feelings they had for one another and becoming lovers. It made the issues they argued about seem unimportant, at the time.

Mulder drives her home without even sparing her a glance. His inattention is glaringly unfamiliar. A few times, Scully opens her mouth to say something but changes her mind, each justification sounding inadequate. She’s utterly disappointed in herself. 

Finally, he pulls up outside her door, leaving the motor running. Needing to say something before leaving she undoes her seatbelt and turns to face him.

“Mulder--”

“Not now, Scully. Just get out.” He doesn't meet her gaze. There’s tension in his shoulders, barely concealed rage simmering just under the surface.

Not moving, she steels herself for his anger. She still has some hope of reasoning with him but before she can say anything else, Mulder turns to look at her. Instead of fury, she sees pain and vulnerability and her heart clenches in her chest. He thinks she betrayed him and from the outside that’s exactly what it looks like, exactly what Spender intended. Was that another motive - to put a wedge between them? 

Suddenly he’s left the car and is walking around to her side. He wrenches open her door and waits impatiently for her to get out. As she exits the car and reaches for him, he avoids her touch and goes back to the driver's side like he’d drive away whether she shut the door or not.

“Mulder, I was wrong to go with Spender but I think that might be what he intended all along, to make you doubt me. Call me when you’re ready to talk. Just know I’m sorry, and I love you.”

Scully waits, hoping he'll turn towards her and acknowledge her words. 

“Shut the door.” He doesn’t spare her a glance.

When she closes the door between them, his car peels out of the parking lot, leaving Scully at the curb to watch Mulder drive out of sight. She doesn’t remember the walk to her apartment, her head filled with fury and regret.

***  
MONDAY  
FBI HEADQUARTERS

Scully walks down the hallway to their office, her heels clicking in an urgent, staccato rhythm, mimicking her fluttering heartbeat. He hadn’t called over the weekend, and despite not knowing his state of mind, she’s eager to see him. While they don’t spend every day together **,** it was rare a day went by that they didn’t at least speak on the phone, talking about anything and nothing. She misses their connection in a way that makes her feel weak and unsure, a foreign and unwelcome sensation. Taking a deep breath, she brushes her sweaty hands on her skirt and prepares a hopefully normal-looking smile on her face as she opens the door. 

Instead of a brooding, grumpy partner, she finds an empty office.

There’s no note on either of their desks. She double checks the door for a message - nothing. Concerned, she boots up her computer and scans her email. Nothing. Her cell phone is charged and there were no messages on her answering machine, she triple-checked before she left that morning.

Even though her instincts scream at her that he might have gone and done something impulsive and stupid, Scully takes a few deep breaths and forces herself to trust him. Calling him will only piss him off even more if, as she suspects, he’s only trying to avoid her a little while longer. He’ll be here. She’ll give him thirty minutes.

The time seems to pass interminably. She’s constantly checking the clock and reopening her email. Wondering if the computer system is down, she’s about to call tech support when the new email icon pops up on her desktop. Her heart leaps in her chest and she’s irrationally angry when it’s not him. She tries to work away at the long list of things she means to do but never has the time for but her eyes keep wandering to the clock. The reports on her desk remain unopened.

Twenty-five minutes. That’s close enough. She calls his home, but he must have turned off his answering machine. And he doesn’t answer his cell. 

Panic sets in.

Not knowing what else to do, Scully dials the number for Skinner’s office, chewing on her lip while she waits to be connected.

“What is it, Agent Scully?” His irritation makes her more nervous than usual, reminding her of the many, many times Mulder did something to annoy him.

“Sir? I, um, wondered if you had any idea of Mulder’s whereabouts?”

Silence for a few beats.

“He’s in St. Louis, helping with a profile. Left yesterday night. You’re unaware of this, Agent Scully? I thought you went with him.”

Scully massages her forehead, suppressing a sigh. “No, I... um... had stuff to do here. He must have forgotten to let me know. Sorry for bothering you, sir.” 

Scully tries Mulder’s cell again but it disconnects after one ring _. So, that’s how it's going to be._ Annoyance begins to creep up at his avoidance, but she tamps it down. She’s more worried about the toll that profiling will take on him. Since she’s not his favorite person right now, she fears her presence would only distract him, making the process take longer rather than providing any help. If they needed a pathologist, Mulder knew where she was.

Straightening her back, Scully forces herself to concentrate and get back to work. It’ll be a long few days alone in their basement office, but perhaps she can take advantage of his absence and catch up on reports and paperwork. Calmed by the practicality of her thoughts, she dives into the neatly stacked piles of work on her desk, determined to put her emotions aside until she’s able to talk to Mulder about it. 

***  
FRIDAY

The rest of the week passes incredibly slowly without Mulder there to keep her company. When Scully tries to find out any information on his profiling case, thinking she could help from a distance or find an excuse to join him out there, she’s rebuffed. She almost takes the rejection personally but dismisses the irrational thoughts - not everything is about her. 

The anger she feels towards Spender grows with each day of Mulder’s absence, each day he refuses her call. She knows that this entire charade was intended to not only help Spender acquire something dangerous but to create doubt in her partner’s head about her. Once he gets back, she’s sure things will be fine, but the work doesn’t hold her interest without him there to distract her from it.

_Speaking of distractions..._ Scully reaches for the office phone and hits redial, reaches Mulder’s voicemail.

“Mulder, it’s me. I’m not going to apologize again, you’ve already heard all that. I still can’t give you a good explanation. Just… I guess I just saw an opportunity for something and decided to take a leap. I know it wasn’t the best time to do that but, there you have it. Call me. Please. I’m worried about you out there.”

Scully hangs up the phone, taps on the receiver. She hates not knowing, hates not being about to do something. Needing to do **_something_ **, she picks up the phone and dials Skinner’s extension. 

A few perfunctory minutes of updates to him on her progress in the office over the past week and Scully gets to the real reason for her call. 

“Sir, I was hoping for an update on Mulder’s case in St. Louis?” She tries to sound casual and unconcerned.

In the momentary silence on the other end of the receiver, she imagines Skinner’s brows knitting together. She swears under her breath, sure he would find it unusual that she was asking him, rather than speaking to Mulder directly.

“Uh... I just spoke to Agent Mulder. He’s due back tomorrow.” A pause. “Is everything okay, Agent Scully? Is there a reason you haven’t spoken with him yourself?”

“No, not at all. I-- um...that’s all I needed from you. Goodbye, sir.” 

_Tomorrow, then._ Scully smiles softly, nodding to herself. He’ll be home and she can help him with whatever consequences arose from the case in St. Louis, relieved she can finally take action.

***  
SATURDAY  
MULDER'S APARTMENT

The rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning accompany Scully as she strides down the hallway to Mulder’s apartment, shaking droplets of water from her raincoat. The fading light bulbs and sparse indigo light from the window at the end of the hall paint everything in shadowy illumination reminiscent of evening, though it's midafternoon. She knocks on his door, biting her lower lip. Strangely nervous about seeing him after so long.

She hears the lock opening and suddenly he’s in front of her. He hasn’t opened the door completely but the few inches of Mulder that she sees causes her to smile foolishly. 

_Oh, how I missed him._

“Hey,” she says. Her delight spills out before she notices his appearance. He looks like he’s been to hell and back - he hasn’t shaved in at least a week and there's dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. 

“Oh, Mulder…” 

Scully reaches for him, but before she can get close he flinches and pulls away from her, still holding the door partially closed and blocking her entrance. She’s dismayed at his reaction but tells herself it’s not about her.

“Now isn’t a good time.” His voice is strained. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a week… I thought we could get dinner and… talk?” At his blank stare, she continues. “Are you ok?” She places a hand on the doorframe and checks him over more closely. 

“I don’t think you being here is a good idea,” he says, his gaze hardening under her inspection. 

Confused at his rejection, Scully takes a deep breath, trying to think of something to say to bridge the gap between them.

“Is this about Spender?”

Mulder’s eyes suddenly flare with unbridled fury. His jaw clenches and his grip on the door tightens. Scully’s not sure what’s worse, the intense anger or the emotionlessness. He stares past her into the hallway. 

“Why on earth would you bring **_him_ ** up, Scully?” He asks this quietly, but she feels the force of his anger with every syllable. 

“Mulder, I didn’t mean--”

"What didn't you mean?" Mulder interrupts, yanking the door open and leaning closer but further blocking her entrance. His entire body rigid. "To take off with a man who's lied and worked against us for years? Who gave you your disease, who took so many things from the both of us?”

"I told you why I went, what he told me." The reason sounds feeble as soon as she voices it, unprepared to defend herself. She’d come to support him in the aftermath of profiling a horrific case, only he seems more upset over her actions from a week ago. .

Mulder’s eyes flash at her again. "And look what it got you. Nothing. Less than nothing. I was so worried about you.” 

The care she tried to take when she left with Spender ended up being completely worthless. Of course Mulder worried about her. What he must have thought? 

He continues, hands gripping the doorframe. “He could have done anything he wanted and you played right into his hands. And I still don't understand. You've always been the one telling me not to trust others, then you take off with the worst sonofabitch--"

Sheets of rain pound against the window, and dangerous crashes of thunder punctuate Mulder’s furious words, cutting off the last part of his sentence. Scully tries to hold his gaze, to tell him with her eyes what she can’t seem to express with her words. She can’t stand how he’s looking at her any longer and glances out the window at the storm. 

Flashes of light illuminate the hallway as she turns back. Long shadows drape Mulder in half-light. His face is both dark and light at once and while she desperately tries to focus her thoughts into coherence, he’s sinking back into his darkened apartment.

"Mulder, I tried..." The rest of her words shrivel under the weight of her mistake. She didn’t need to repeat herself and he didn’t seem to want to accept, let alone believe, her motivations the first time. A week apart didn’t lessen his anger. Her chest tightens. "I don't know what else to say."

"I don't think I really know you." Mulder’s voice breaks, sharpness replaced by vulnerability.

The statement breaks her heart. She knows how much trust means to him, that for years now she’s been the only one he can count on, who never tried to manipulate him. She's always been his exception. He trusted her implicitly because she’s never had an agenda. Have her actions forced him to doubt her? 

_He has no one else. Of course he would react this way._

She composes herself before speaking again, feeling like she’s traveled back in time, needing to convince him that he could trust her again.

"You **_do_ ** know me. It was a mistake. A terrible mistake, but that's all it was. It's **_me_ **." She longs to reach out and grab his hand to emphasize her point, but his earlier reaction makes her hesitant.

Mulder’s eyes close and his shoulders slump, weariness and defeat written on every inch of his frame. He inches the door shut, withdrawing from her completely. 

"Mulder, please…" She’s desperate but has no idea how to reach him, convince him her intentions were pure. It’s like the idea of her betrayal has buried itself so deeply within him there’s nothing she can do to convince him otherwise. 

“No. I can’t do this right now.” He pulls away, shutting the door firmly between them.

She hadn’t expected this. Needing some sort of connection no matter how tenuous, she reaches out and lays her hand on the door, the smooth wood-grain surface under her palm an ineffectual replacement. She stands there for longer than she should, her breath shallow, emotions swirling within her. 

A boom of thunder shocks her out of her bleak thoughts, forcing her hand from his door and her steps towards the elevator. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this mad at her for so long. She manages to get to her car and drive home, heedless of the rain soaking her to the skin.

***  
MONDAY, THE FOLLOWING WEEK  
FBI HEADQUARTERS

Worried when Mulder’s late for work on Monday, Scully wonders if she’ll have a repeat of last week. When he shows up she’s relieved, despite his rumpled suit and tired eyes. Mulder is distant but at least they’re speaking to one another, giving Scully hope that they can fix whatever happened between them. 

They work separately on old case reports and Scully tries to take comfort in the routine. However, Mulder’s dark mood is a thick fog between them, making their progress feel sluggish and their attempts at communication heavy and awkward. She wishes she could give him some measure of solace, comb her fingers through his hair, hold him at night until he falls into an easy slumber. Guilt cuts through her concern, presses heavily on her chest. It was her own actions that placed her here, preventing her from being able to give him comfort.

Regardless, he's talking to her, which she takes as a step in the right direction.

The week passes and Scully’s optimism dwindles. She almost forgets about their estrangement until he shys away from her touch, doesn’t meet her gaze, and refuses to banter or joke and she's struck by the remoteness of his presence. It’s like she's been reduced to a tolerable acquaintance rather than his closest friend and lover. 

They’ve never been good at talking about personal things. Scully could probably recount on one hand the rare times they spoke openly about their relationship or feelings with one another. How can she start a conversation with him about when it’s just not something that they do?

Thoughts of her sister emerge more frequently. Scully misses her acutely, the pain of her death like a fresh wound. Was it this hard all those years ago? Missy was so good at knowing what to do when it came to people. Instead of speculating about what her sister would say, Scully embraces her strengths and gets back to work, what brought her and Mulder together in the first place. She takes some comfort in simply having him nearby, witnessing the brilliance of his mind. If they’ve taken a step back in their relationship, she can’t deny that she wouldn’t trade her partner for any other.

***  
FRIDAY  
FBI HEADQUARTERS

“There’s been some tension between my partner and I this past week and I can’t figure out how to get past it. Or if we even can.” Scully chews on her bottom lip, finding it difficult to voice her concerns aloud.

Karen Kosseff, the FBI counselor she’s talked to off and on over the years, sits across from her in her small office. She’s silent, calmly waiting for her to continue.

Scully clears her throat. “I made a mistake, a pretty serious one, that might have made him question my loyalty.”

“Were you disloyal to him?”

“No, never." Scully answers immediately. “I did something reckless, something that made him worry about me. But now he’s just upset, won’t talk.”

“You’ve been partnered with Agent Mulder for…” Karen consults the file in front of her. “Seven years now? That’s quite a long time to be paired with someone. But you feel this is different than the usual ups and downs one would expect in such a long-term relationship?” 

“Before--” She interrupts herself before accidentally revealing too much. “We’ve had arguments before, but never anything that prevented us from continuing our work normally. Even if we don’t talk about it, we generally push on like nothing’s happened.”

“And do you think that’s an effective way to communicate?”

“Probably not.” Her mouth turns up in a self-deprecating smile. She’s always been comfortable with not talking, not revealing her innermost thoughts. It was always easier to keep things hidden, but she knows deep down that it’s always led to trouble. “But anything would be better than what’s going on now.”

“From our past meetings and from reading your file I can see you two have weathered a lot in the years you’ve been together. That can take a serious toll on anyone.” Karen’s compassionate voice always seems to seep through her walls. She forgets each time how easy it is to open up when she’s here.

“I know this. And I think maybe what we’re going through now might be a continuation of things we’ve been through. I just wish I knew what to do.” Scully’s voice cracks, she feels tears threatening. Bowing her head as she closes her eyes, she tries to remain in control for long enough to say everything she needs to.

“Is there something else bothering you?”

Scully whips her head up to look at Karen. _How does she do that?_ “I, um… I can’t talk to him about this--” 

Karen tilts her head, waits.

“Something happened to me, when I… made my mistake. I don’t really know what. I’m scared to find out. But if I told him--” Scully breaks off to press a hand to her mouth, feeling hot tears spill out over her cheeks, but she forces herself to continue. “It would make what I did so much worse.”

Scully has tried not to think about what Spender did to her while she was unconscious. It was easier to be angry with Spender about the disc and his lies, to be concerned with Mulder’s feelings and how she could help him. 

Karen doesn’t speak for several minutes, offering Scully a box of tissues. Her voice is concerned when she breaks their silence. “What are you scared of, Dana?”

“Of the possibilities. Of the consequences of them. Maybe I’ve made more than one mistake. This is just the last one in a series, and I can’t go back to how it was before--”

Karen raises her eyebrows at her pause.

It was so difficult to separate herself from their new relationship, maybe that was one of the problems. Taking a deep breath, and changing the direction she’d been heading. “I think I always prided myself on acting as Mulder’s ballast, the person who grounds him. I feel like I’ve failed in that regard, and I think he sees it that way too. Maybe that’s what is most upsetting, not what I did but how outside of myself the mistake was.”

“Do you feel like he holds you to unreasonable standards?”

“I don’t think so.” Crumpling the tissue in her hands, breaking it off into little pieces, Scully sighs before continuing. “I think if I give him time, things will work out. Sometimes we take a while to get moving, so to speak.”

***

It’s not usually until much later that Scully feels better after a session with Karen. Uncomfortable truths come to the surface, harmful things she realizes she’s been doing and needs to change. Knowing and doing, though, are two entirely different things. Even if she knew how to get him to speak with her, she doesn’t know if she has the strength to open up to him, to tell him everything. 

Instead of worrying about what to do with Mulder, Scully dives into work with an obsessive meticulousness. Not only does she work on finishing case reports, she consults with other agents outside the X-Files on their cases and starts research on a new paper about a case from a few months back. Outside of work, she starts a new training regimen, hoping she’ll be marathon-ready if the opportunity ever arises. The addition of all of these activities leaves her exhausted at the end of each day, falling into a restless sleep late at night and waking just in time to start the next morning. 

Sometimes the flurry of her day isn’t enough to keep her mind from wandering before unconsciousness takes her. These nights are the hardest. Despite spending most of the day with Mulder, and even though they didn’t spend every night with each other before their falling-out, she’s lonely. When she misses the warmth and solidity of his body around hers, she’ll find momentary release from her recently retired vibrator. Pretending he's here, that he's touching her, that things are back to normal. After her orgasm she feels the emptiness of her bed even more acutely - it’s not his body or her pleasure that she misses most, but the intimacy of his presence.

Scully’s mood shifts after a few weeks of her busier schedule. She’s easily angered and it’s increasingly difficult to hide her emotions. The incessant cracking of Mulder’s sunflower seeds grates on her nerves and she finds herself leaving the office more frequently as well, refusing to take out her anger at its intended target. Skinner and the rest of the agents in the building avoid her whenever they hear the tell-tale sound of her strident heels in the halls. 

***

It’s been just over three weeks since Mulder’s return from St. Louis and four weeks since they’ve had a friendly conversation. Scully finds herself in the office alone, reviewing a forensics report for a fellow agent, a favor she’s been meaning to return. Mulder’s jacket sits on the back of his chair, empty seed shells littering the desk and the floor around it. He’s off doing God knows what and she doesn’t bother asking where he’s going anymore, since he only responds to her questions with single-syllable grunts. She’s irritated at Mulder’s presumption of her availability, and his continued neglect of their relationship. _What relationship?_

When the phone rings, she considers not answering. She’s uncomfortable with negligence of duty, no matter how small, compelling her to pick up after a respectable three rings. 

“What?”

“Er, Agent Scully, I was hoping to discuss the case reports you and Agent Mulder just turned in.” 

Scully bites the inside of her cheek and closes her eyes, attempting to keep her annoyance at bay. With the extra time she and Mulder seem to have nowadays, the reports are some of the most comprehensive ones they’ve ever turned in. She feels like this conversation is a giant waste of time, but Skinner’s her boss, so she suffers through his questions.

Scully hangs up the phone as Mulder enters their office reading a file, not acknowledging her presence. She studiously ignores his silence and goes back to her report.

Almost an hour later, Scully looks up from her reading, surprised to find that so much time has passed. When she looks over at Mulder, she meets his gaze and blinks in surprise.

“Do you need something, Mulder?” Scully raises her eyebrows and feels her mouth start to twitch upwards in a smile. Warmth floods her chest at his unexpected attention.

Mulder shakes his head and reaches for a report, opening it and ignoring her.

Her anger spills out, and she doesn’t hold it back this time. “When are you going to stop punishing me?” 

“Once I feel you can be trusted to not run off with the next guy who promises you something.”

Scully’s eyebrows knit together and her mouth drops open in shock. Before she can respond, Mulder grabs his jacket and leaves without another word. Her hand rises to her mouth and she closes her eyes, feeling the force of his words like a punch to the gut.

_He won’t even speak to me about what’s bothering him, yet feels the need to make condescending remarks?_

She stares at the office door, wishing he’d return so she could tell him where he could shove his idiotic petulance.

When he doesn’t come back, Scully finds it difficult to concentrate. She leaves early and heads to the gym for a punishing training session before heading home. Rewarding herself with a few glasses of wine and a decidedly non-romantic movie, she manages to sink into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Scully’s running late, dreading another confrontation but knowing she should say something. Mulder’s sitting at his desk with coffee for the both of them.

“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, Scully.” 

She’s surprised at first, stares at him. He’s avoiding her gaze, buried in a report. As she waits for him to continue, he turns his chair around and sorts through some files behind his desk.

_That’s it?_

After he left the office yesterday, she was determined to finally speak frankly but after his weak apology she’s reluctant to cause another argument. 

A night of stewing in her anger left her emotionally drained and pessimistic about being able to work things out with him. Every time she tries to talk, her mouth goes dry and a weight presses heavily on her chest. 

_Why is it so difficult to know what to say?_

Frustrated at her inability to express herself, she resumes work without another word. They exist in the same office, worlds apart.

***  
WEDNESDAY, THE FOLLOWING WEEK  
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE  
SOUTHEAST WASHINGTON, D.C.

> _“Well, good work, Scully. I'll call you back later.” - Mulder_

Scully rolls her shoulders and stands, irritated at his abrupt goodbye. The conclusion of the case re-energized her but now she feels exhaustion creeping back. Despite her tiredness, she can’t help thinking about Mulder and this damn surveillance. She feels abandoned. While she’s left to pursue something not even worth their time, he scampers off to investigate a real X-File on his own. Maybe he realizes he doesn’t actually need her after all.

They’d become automatons. Mulder doesn’t talk to her about any new cases, they just work on tying loose ends and finishing reports. She wonders if he disappears on weekends to investigate things on his own instead of calling and pestering her to join him. She regrets her feigned annoyance back then, that she never really told him how much their time together meant to her. 

Her shoulder twinges, sore from sitting too long. A tumultuous combination of anger and dread builds within her. Aside from the time she went to his apartment, or the time he told her off, he won’t talk about what happened and as the days pass it gets harder for her to confront him about it. She doesn’t know how to fix their relationship if he won’t even acknowledge its presence. It’s bewildering that he can give up on them so easily - all the things they’ve done for each other over the years and he can just cast her off? Maybe she had everything wrong from the beginning, that the intensity of her feelings for him have always been one-sided.

At home, Scully peels off her clothes and stands under the lash of a hot shower until her skin is pink and raw. Unbidden, the tears start to flow, merging with the sluice of water flowing over her body. She was so preoccupied with her rage that this new emotion takes her by surprise. She only notices it once the sobs cause her to double over as she struggles to contain them. 

The combination of steam and grief starts to make her feel dizzy. Stumbling out of the stall, she sits heavily on the floor, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around herself.

She doesn’t notice the cold air causing her to shiver violently. She’s oblivious to her wet hair plastered to her head and neck, thick droplets cascading to the floor and pooling underneath her, making a wet mess on the cold tiles. 

Her awareness consists only of the overwhelming grief and painful pressure of her hands pressing against her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the emotions overtaking her.

All this time… the idea that their relationship had meant **_nothing_ ** to him, even after everything he’s said and done. The hold he’s had over her for years, thinking that it was only a matter of time. Never that it would come to an end almost before it even began. All her fears and vulnerabilities she’s bottled up these past few weeks spill over, shaking her to her core. She recalls the nagging but easily-ignored feelings that their happiness couldn’t last. Those minor twinges and paranoid notions suddenly seem so undeniably monstrous and real.

She’s not sure how long she sits crumpled there on the floor. Her ass is numb and she’s shaking uncontrollably with the cold by the time she comes back to herself. She’s stiff from the awkward position she’s been sitting in and the tension of her emotional outburst. Drying herself off and slipping into warm flannel pajamas, she heads to her darkened bedroom. Her head hits the pillow and she envelopes herself underneath her quilt, her grief waning into bruising emptiness as she falls into an exhausted slumber.

***

Hours later, Mulder comes to her apartment and lets himself in, pausing at the doorway before heading to her bedroom. He stands at the end of the bed and stares at her sleeping form for several minutes, a bleak expression on his face. He moves closer, carefully tucking the blanket around her, brushing a trembling hand over her curling hair, gently kissing the patch of skin peeking out from the collar of her pajamas. Leaning towards her, he studies her sleeping form for a few more minutes before leaving, regret and an awakened determination in his eyes.

**END CHAPTER 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated E and explores the significance of the episode "all things".

SATURDAY  
FBI HEADQUARTERS

As Scully arrives at their office, she flicks off Mulder’s music, annoyed that she’s been working all morning while he’s been here having a good time without her. “Oh, bring me some lunch on your way over, Scully.”  _ Sure, can I grab your dry cleaning, too? _

When he first mentions crop circles she tunes him out, irritated at his assumption that she had nothing better to do on the weekend than run off with him to chase aliens or monsters or, in this case, mathematically-brilliant farmers. She’s tired of waiting for him and can’t make herself care about a nebulous case even if it’s better than being ignored and forgotten. 

A few weeks ago she would have enjoyed spending a weekend with Mulder in England, distracting him from the case for a few hours here and there. But they weren’t lovers anymore, just estranged colleagues sidestepping the one topic they needed to address. Spending an extended and awkward period of time in his company, with no chance to escape, is an unbearable idea.

After the pointless “serial killer” case this past week she’d been just as guilty of avoiding him. He even brought her breakfast one morning but she didn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what she’d see in them, or what she wouldn’t. It was easier to pretend and hope than confront the finality of his decision. 

When he tells her he bought plane tickets for them, she shoots him down immediately, not seeing any other option to preserve her sanity. He looks at her like he’s hoping she’ll change her mind, then speaks again. 

“I'll just cancel your ticket.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but instead he takes a single bite of his sandwich and heads for the door. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Mulder…” Scully waits for him to look back at her. “Look, we're always running. We're always chasing the next big thing. Why don't you ever just stay still?”

_ Why won’t he talk to me? _

“I wouldn't know what I'd be missing.” 

Disappointment is etched in the set of his shoulders as he disappears from view. The idea she’s let him down tugs at her heart, but is quickly replaced by the relief at not having to worry about being around him. The fact that she’s relieved to be away from him causes her mood to sink even further. When has it ever been the case that she’s been more happy away from him rather than the opposite? 

***  
LATER THAT DAY  
WASHINGTON NATIONAL HOSPITAL

> _ “I know how difficult it must have been for you... just walking through that door but you wouldn't have come if you didn't want to and that says something, doesn't it?” - Daniel _

His words affect her deeply. The touch from another that Scully’s craved for weeks catches her off-balance. His tenderness reminds her of what she misses, but is it the man or the feelings she craves?

It’s serendipitous. If she’d been given the correct patient file or she’d chosen to go to the hospital at a different time, she would never have known he was there. And the timing. She has no idea where she stands with Mulder and she’s losing patience waiting for him to decide one way or another. 

_ Maybe he’s already chosen but I can't admit it to myself. _

Daniel was a man she once loved so fiercely, at such a different time in her life. He still held strong feelings for her, spoke of her memory like it was a treasured thing. Even though he disapproved of the choices she made long ago, he remembers her fondly. It’s exhilarating to be regarded with affection after being starved of it for so long. 

_ Was this a sign I should move on? _

She remembers the advice Missy gave her when she decided to leave medicine and pursue her career in the FBI. Her almost-affair with Daniel was something she was reluctant to speak about to anyone, feeling guilty for loving a married man. Regardless, she told her sister everything, like always. Missy didn’t know Daniel but she didn’t like the way Scully said he talked to her, or that he was so insistent on breaking his marriage vows to be with a much younger student. Scully didn’t agree with her on the first, but she did on the latter. The trust she had in her sister made it easier to move on and leave him behind. 

_ Was Missy wrong back then? _

#####  ***

> _ “You've come at such a strange time.” - Scully _

Daniel’s focus is razor-sharp and in his eyes she only sees herself.

“I know, I know. You-you have a life.” She can tell he hopes her new life doesn’t include a significant other. She’s not sure what’s true any more.

“I don't know what I have.” She thinks about the interminable silence from Mulder, not knowing what he wants or what their future holds. The small things that brought her here now of all times. “I mean... your x-rays were in the wrong envelope. I never would have even known you were here if it wasn't for a mix-up. It's just…”

“What do you want, Dana?” It seems like so long since someone’s been concerned with what she wants, even herself. The words take her by surprise.

“I want everything I should want at this time of my life. Maybe I want the life I didn't choose.” 

It was devastating to get a taste of intimacy with Mulder only to have it turn to ashes. She thought she knew what she wanted, but maybe she didn’t. Here was a path placed in front of her, the chance to choose something she denied herself so long ago. She was tired of denying herself happiness.

She’s interrupted by the irregular heartbeat of the former love of her life. She molds back into the person she’s comfortable with, the doctor, and acts in order to save him. Thoughts, dangerous; actions, familiar and comforting.

***  
LATER THAT NIGHT  
SCULLY'S APARTMENT

Scully doesn’t get much sleep that night. She tosses and turns, unable to relax after the day’s tumultuous events. Her mind is a whirl of confusing and conflicting emotions. The juxtaposition of Daniel against Mulder. One completely devoted to her while the other seems indifferent. Maybe she could have the life she wanted with Daniel but, more importantly, she feels certain about what a future with him would look like. The unknown path lying ahead with Mulder frightens her. She has never been good with not knowing, with not having things planned out.

She used her skills as a doctor to save Daniel. The practicality of having the knowledge and expertise to do something useful feels like a security blanket. For years now she’s been delving into uncharted territory - seeing things she can’t explain. The idea that science doesn’t hold all the answers makes her feel small and inadequate. Leaving that behind for the comfort of medicine and Daniel’s love was very appealing.

After waking and consuming two cups of strong coffee, Scully gets the urge to visit Colleen but she’s not sure why. Her house felt warm and comforting and she regrets the way she acted that night. She has a few questions but nothing that couldn't be answered by a phone call. Needing to experience her presence again, she drives there anyway.

Suddenly the thought comes to her that Colleen reminds her so strongly of Missy. The thought causes a sudden flood of emotion to rise within her and she has to pause before getting out of the car. She’d just recently been thinking of how much she wanted her sister to help her think through her issues with Mulder. Compared to Missy, Scully feels woefully inadequate when it comes to dealing with her emotions. Her sister flitted from partner to partner, dealing with heartbreak and love easily and fully. It was something Scully had always envied. When her feelings for Mulder deepened to a point she couldn't deny anymore, she longed for her advice and comfort.

Scully steels herself as Colleen answers the door, pushing aside the memories and longing for her sister. She prepares herself with more practical questions about her current predicament. Scully doesn’t need help, Daniel does, and she has a vague sense that Colleen could steer her in the right direction. Something keeps driving her to trust her instincts when it comes to this woman, perhaps she should finally listen to them.

***  
SUNDAY

> _ “When we hold onto shame and guilt and fear it creates imbalance,  _ _ makes us forget who we are.” - Colleen _

Colleen’s words repeat themselves over and over in Scully’s mind. She moves away from thoughts about herself, directing them to Daniel. Despite leaving before starting an affair with him, his marriage was ruined and his daughter traumatized. Scully had moved on, but he’d lived with thoughts only of her for ten years. 

The idea that he’d been so close for so long had meant to make her feel cherished but it only made her uncomfortable. When she’d been abducted he’d been in the same city, working in a hospital while Mulder searched endlessly for her. When Mulder was holding her hair back when she was sick during chemo, Daniel was impressing a new group of students with his brilliance. And when Mulder held her close during her baseball lesson and they finally took the next step in their relationship, Daniel was thinking about her, ignoring his family.

Perhaps Daniel was put in her life again for a reason. Maybe she should take a chance. He was here now and he loved her. She found comfort in his solid presence and the reminder of her former self, so sure of her science. She pushes away thoughts of Mulder, of the guilt and hopelessness from these past few weeks. A sudden ache blooms in her chest and she presses a hand to her sternum to contain it.

She vacillates for a few moments before making a decision, walking towards Daniel’s room with the flowers she’d purchased on a whim. Instead of breezing in his room and matching his smile with an equal one from herself, she’s greeted with news about Daniel’s worsening health. 

Unsure of herself, she leaves the hospital, follows her instincts, and has a vision. The black heart - he’d been poisoning himself. The need to heal him, to bring him back regardless of what he would think or want overwhelms her practicality. If she could heal him, make him see what he was doing to himself, he would get better. Her medicine didn’t help, so it was time to trust in something else.

***  
MONDAY

She doesn’t even think about what’s happening until it’s done. It felt so natural to utilize something so separate from her beloved science. She just let go and put her trust in the unknown, her instincts screaming at her that it was the right thing to do before her brain could catch up. Missy would be proud. She hopes it’s not too late to share these things with Mulder, that he’ll still care enough to appreciate the distance she’s traveled these past few days.

When she heads home from the hospital, her thoughts turn inward. She realizes now that the woman Daniel obsessed over is a barely recognizable ghost of her current self. Her gradual transition into the person she is now seems sudden and dramatic when she sees herself through Daniel’s eyes. 

She wouldn’t have known she wasn’t the same person if she hadn’t seen him again.

Ever since the beginning of her work on the X-Files she’s been in denial of the things she’s experienced. It wasn’t until Antarctica that her refusal to acknowledge what she saw affected her relationship with Mulder and nearly drove him away. It wasn’t just about him or their relationship, but about herself. Her fear surrounding what she’s become and her stubbornness to resist change even in the face of unquantifiable proof.

She justified it as needing to balance Mulder’s penchant for believing anything, to ground him and keep him honest, as he told her himself. Her outright denial was dangerously untruthful. She realizes now how harmful her actions have been. The contradiction of being so unreasonably skeptical in the face of things she sees with her own eyes and then putting her trust in Spender’s words, despite the mountain of evidence pointing to his treacherous nature. The mistake she made was singular, but with all their history, must have been completely devastating for Mulder. 

If they can see past this rift in their relationship, Scully knows things have to change. She’ll never believe everything she sees or hears without careful consideration or evidence, but she owes it to herself, to Mulder, to stop letting science blind her. She’s always tried to guide him to be more critical of his beliefs and not trust the first thing that comes into his head. He’s come a long way in the time she’s known him. Why should it be so hard for her to do the same?

A calmness settles over her at these revelations. She sees the path laid out in front of her, as clear as the sidewalk she sits beside. Her thoughts, like a warm blanket, settle over her, comforting her more than the sun’s rays hitting her back. She’ll always carry a little bit of her sister within her, and this makes her feel more like herself than she has in a long, long time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the blonde-haired woman in the cap for the fourth time during these past few days. Hoping to finally figure out what she has to do with the strange occurrences she’s been experiencing, Scully rushes to catch her. When she spins the figure around, it’s Mulder. She smiles widely, recognizing the path leading to Mulder, with him. The choices she’s made all along. Of course he’d be here now, so she offers to make him tea. She’s ready to open up to him, she owes him that. She owes it to herself.

***  
LATER THAT DAY  
MULDER'S APARTMENT

Scully doesn’t speak about their relationship or about Spender, but it’s an unspoken thread that weaves through the story she tells Mulder. Her past, what she saw, what she finally believes. It’s enough to have him here listening to her, looking at her with wonder instead of indifference. Is it affection or an accident when he grazes his fingers along her own, as they sip their tea?

She lets the rumbling monotone of his voice lull her to sleep. The tension fades from her body, making her curl towards his warmth as she fades into unconsciousness.

Hours later, she treads to his bedroom and watches him from the doorway. A wave of tenderness washes over her as she gazes at his sleeping form. He’s lying on his side of the bed, one leg wrapped in his thin yellow pajamas splayed outside of the covers, the planes of his bare chest half covered by the sheet, his strong muscled arms resting on either side of him. 

Taking a chance, desperate to maintain their connection, she lays her jacket on the corner of the bed. Inhaling a shaky breath, she wavers tentatively, not sure about whether she should presume she’d be welcome. Their conversation a few hours ago reminded her of where they used to be, but they have yet to speak of where they are, what their future holds. 

"Mulder?" she whispers, her voice sleep-roughened and hesitant.

She can tell he hadn’t been fully asleep. He sits up slightly on one elbow and reaches his hand out towards her.

She approaches with a tremulous smile and stands beside him, twining her fingers through his. Mulder wraps his other arm around her hip, draws her closer and nuzzles his face into her stomach. She feels she's come home. 

"Mulder... the right choice, the only choice, is us." She brushes her hand through his hair and leans over to kiss the top of his head. 

“C’mere, Scully,” Mulder says, pulling her towards the bed. The awkwardness of their embrace results in a stumbling maneuver that somehow ends with her halfway beneath him, their legs tangled together. She chuckles and caresses the rough, stubbly skin along his jaw.

“I wasn’t sure…” Scully’s not clear how much to reveal but, finding newfound confidence in her recent self-awareness and their time together tonight, pushes on. “...you wanted this.”

He moves a lock of her hair behind her ear, strokes her cheek tenderly. "When I wanted to go to England with you, it wasn’t just a case. I hoped a change of scenery would help me...." he searches for the words, “tell you what you mean to me, that I was sorry for being such an ass lately. That I am very, very sorry.”

“I had no idea.” Tears form in her eyes, regret at how she misinterpreted his disinterest. Replaying the scene in her mind she sees it now. He’d been acting so different that day until she shot him down. They were always unintentionally hurting each other, too afraid to voice their thoughts, afraid of rejection. 

“Well, it’s good you didn’t come. You had some pretty incredible things happen here.” 

Mulder looks at her closely, the familiar expression of his mind working, taking a dangerous path. Moving to lay on his side, he puts some distance between them.

“I haven’t been myself these past few weeks. Things have been… difficult.” Mulder looks away from her, resting his head on the pillow next to hers. He reaches out, his hand tentatively brushing against her shoulder.

“I know what I did was--” Scully starts to apologize but Mulder stops her, putting his thumb on her mouth and shaking his head.

“I went to a dark place... but I’ve been heading there for a while. I never really thought I deserved you, or the happiness we had together. I just used what you did as an excuse to drive you away.” Mulder takes a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to someone. She’s been helping me. I - I... don’t want to push you away any more.”

“Mulder... you deserve to be happy. We deserve this.” Scully moves closer to him, reaches out and places her hands on the side of his face to emphasize her words.

“I’m working on it. You make me believe, Scully.” He smiles, but there’s still sadness and regret reflected in his eyes. “I just need some extra help.”

Scully nods, touches her forehead to his and they take a few moments to just breathe together, side-by-side. She pulls away and waits for his eyes to open and look at her before speaking.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Scully bites her lip, brushes her hand through his hair. “Not talking. It doesn’t work anymore.”

Mulder nods and squeezes her shoulder.

"And… I want to be truer to myself. Can you help me with that?" 

“Yeah. I can do that.”

Scully moves her hand to his chest, tracing a line over his pectoral and across his ribcage to the lean musculature of his back. She grazes her nails to one side of his spine, wanting to comfort, needing to touch. She drops her gaze to his smooth, coppery skin, overwhelmed by his closeness, the smell and feel of him next to her. A tingling sensation low in her belly spreads to warm her chest. Despite the desire building within her, she’s gentle instead of demanding, wanting to give him solace if that’s all he needs from her tonight.

As she meets his gaze again, the somber look has disappeared. His eyes are dilated, irises deep green and filled with desire, always exciting her with their intensity when he directs his gaze towards her. Suddenly he’s above her again, his eyes shadowed in the dark room, the glints of moonlight highlighting the strength of his jawline, the curve of his clavicle. She presses her thumb along the length of the elegant bone, her fingers over the muscles of his shoulder and neck, lightly grazing over his chin and finally his lips. 

“Trapezius. Sternocleidomastoid. Orbicularis oris,” she whispers, centering herself as she touches him. Her eyes follow her fingers, absorbing the details she was so afraid she’d forget, trying to regain some semblance of control as her desire threatens to overwhelm her. 

“You sure do know how to talk dirty to a guy, Scully.” His voice is low and gravelly and he angles his head into her touch. When she sees the affection reflected at her in his eyes, she's suddenly struck by the force of her devotion to this man. That they are here, again.

Their faces inch closer until their mouths are barely touching, a feathery kiss that makes her shiver and her eyes flutter closed. His hand grazes along her arm and shoulder to the nape of her neck, through the hair at the base of her skull while his other hand moves to caress the side of her breast, teasing her with his closeness. Their kiss deepens, tongues tangling against each other as the tenderness of their embrace builds into something more urgent. Twining her hands through his hair, Scully draws him closer. She’s missed him, missed **_this_**. She feels absolutely greedy with her want for him, not holding back now that she knows he wants this, too.

With his teasing hand, he reaches under her sweater and cups the swell of her breast through the satin of her bra, flicks the hardened peak of her nipple with his thumb. She moans softly at his touch, rolling him over and straddling him. 

She speaks into his mouth, not wanting to break the contact of their kiss. "Mmm, clothes…" She wants to feel her skin against his length, wants him to devour her whole. She can’t wait a second longer.

Mulder’s hands move down her torso, pausing at the hem of her sweater. He wraps them entirely around her waist, sliding upwards. Scully takes over and whips the garment over her head and in the general direction of her jacket. Pulling her down, he kisses a trail from her neck to the fringe of lace covering her breasts. She gasps and moves closer, stroking her palms over his pectorals and reaching upwards to grip his shoulders. Sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth, her eyes flicker closed as Mulder’s mouth continues over the swell of her breast. He curves his tongue around her areola, skimming around her nipple through the thin material as his hand seeks her other breast, massaging and kneading. His other hand glides down to grip her hip, dipping his thumb slightly underneath the edge of her skirt before cupping and squeezing her ass.

She’s on fire. Her skirt has hitched up to the top of her thighs and she thinks he must feel how wet she is already, even through the layers of clothing she still wears.  _ Too many clothes _ . As if reading her mind, his hand caressing her breast moves around and deftly unhooks the clasp of her bra. He breaks from his suckling to remove her bra, grinning proudly up at her. Scully chuckles and leans over, giving him a teasing nip on his lower lip as his hands glide down her sides to search for the zipper of her skirt. 

“Side,” she says and moves off of him onto her back. Lifting her hips after he unzips her, she helps him slip off her skirt. She watches as he moves off the bed to carefully lay it on her jacket. He finds her sweater lying precariously on the edge of the chair in his room and takes the time to unravel it and lay it neatly on her pile of clothes as well.

“Mulderrr…” Scully exhales, poking his bare ribcage with a stockinged toe impatiently.

“You’ll thank me later.” 

He winks at her, standing by the bed, his darkened eyes sweeping over her languid form. Reaching for her waist again, he removes her pantyhose, taking her panties along with them. These he discards on the floor and she sighs as his gentle hands caress the bare skin of her legs. Grabbing her ankles, he pulls her to the edge of the bed, kneels down before her. Kisses the arch of her foot, the delicate bones of her ankle, the curve of her calf and the swell of her thigh, starting over again with the other leg - licking, nipping, soothing. Achingly slowly.

“So good, Scully.” His eyes connect with hers briefly before he lays his cheek against the top of her thigh, breathing her in, the scent of her arousal heavy in the air. He continues, nuzzling his face against her mons. Such a gentle touch but igniting a powerful flood of pleasure within her. Kneeling up, he presses his tongue to the skin at the joint of her thigh, slicks upwards and swirls around her navel, lingering on the sensitive sucking the skin below. Rising up on his elbows and looking into her eyes, he smiles contentedly.

He drags his fingertips over her hip to the curve of her waist, the side of her breast, running down her arm to clasp his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. She smiles at him affectionately, her chest heaving with anticipation. 

He tears his eyes from hers and his head dips down between her legs. His other hand wraps around her thigh, cradling her to him as he nuzzles the delicate skin there, pressing tender kisses along each one. He lowers his head and his tongue drifts along the edge of her outer lips, a touch that ignites a fire deep within, spreading to the edges of her awareness. She moans softly and her free hand meanders to her breasts, caressing and squeezing her nipples, a counterpoint to his movements below.

After teasing his way in, he increases the pressure of his tongue. Using the flat of it to swipe upwards, circling around her clit and sucking lightly. He pushes inside her and swirls before rhythmically kissing and licking her folds, increasing his speed before slowing to a near pause. He relinquishes her hand, inserting one, then two fingers into her, curling upwards and stroking her g-spot. The indescribable feeling of pressure and warmth blooms upwards and outwards, causing her fingers to tingle and her toes to curl. His hand around her thigh moves to her hip and caresses back again, an exquisite loop she focuses on, willing herself to hold on and enjoy this moment for as long as possible. 

The ache inside her builds as he nips and licks, caressing her just how she likes. She manages to lean up on an arm to look at him, needing to see him there, reassuring herself that this isn’t just another dream. His head peeks up from between her legs, watching her with a mirrored expression of desire as she touches her breasts. His chin is glistening with her wetness and his smile glints at her in the moonlight.

“You’re so… fucking… sexy... Scully.” Mulder punctuates his words with a few more curls of his fingers inside her, making her writhe and touch herself with increasing intensity. Still watching her carefully, he removes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, moaning as he tastes her.

“Jesus, Mulder…” Scully groans, laying back, breathing heavily. 

He moves back down, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on the skin of her inner thighs and lips, teasing her again, drawing out her pleasure. As he increases his movements, she feels her orgasm build, the tell-tale feeling like she’s about to overflow with sensation. He sucks her clit with the perfect pressure, runs his tongue up and around her lips, before sweeping over the skin above her clitoris, swollen with need. And that’s what sends her off the edge. The sensitive nerves throb, her inner walls contract, and she sees the universe behind her eyelids.

She never remembers what she says when she comes but she can always count on Mulder’s twinkling eyes, proud and affectionate, to recount the details later. Usually expletives and some form of religious heresy but always,  **_always “_ ** Mulder Mulder Mulder”.

As she comes back to herself, she feels the gentle caress of his hands on her outer thighs, his scratchy cheek resting on the sensitive flesh of her belly. He’s watching her with an awestruck expression, a half-smile making him look boyish and happy. She wants to give him this all the time just to see his face, the rest of it a bonus.

She wriggles herself up the bed, beckons him with her hands. After discarding his pajama bottoms on the floor, he moves onto the bed beside her, grazes his fingers along her side and kisses a trail up her torso. He pauses at her breasts, cupping them tenderly in his palms. Taking one taut nipple in his mouth and suckling gently, her desire flares up sharply once more. He nips gently, then places delicate kisses over to the other breast, giving it equal attention. His attentions are leisurely, all-consuming, and Scully only wants more.

“Oh, Mul--” her breath catches. “Mulder, yes...”

He releases her nipple and looks at her, grinning broadly, stroking her breasts and giving them a sweet kiss on each rosy tip before moving up to embrace her, settling himself beside her tingling body. He presses gente kisses along her neck, trailing upwards to her face, soothing her warmed flesh with gentle grazes of his fingers and the tips of his nails. His hands move to the hair at her temple, slick with sweat, and he tenderly presses his lips along her hairline.

“Love you.” Scully sighs, wanting him close, to make him feel as good as she does.

“You’re just saying that because…” He traces the outline of her ear and sucks on her earlobe, tapping her earring in a familiar pattern.

“Mmm yeah, you’re right.” She grins at him and reaches down to swat his ass. She runs her hand along the firm skin there, squeezing, then moves around to grasp his cock.

Mulder gasps at her touch, suddenly frozen and certainly not the one in charge. She looks down between them, loving the contrast of her pale skin next to his muscled, coppery torso, her small hand grasping his thick, hard erection. She swirls upwards, using her thumb to coat his fluid along his length. Releasing him briefly, she pushes him on his back and rakes her gaze over his naked body. His muscled chest with its sexy patch of soft hair, his defined abs, his thick hard cock - all hers. She wets her lips and leans down, licking him from base to tip with the flat of her tongue, humming contentedly, warmth spreading from her groin when he moans. She swirls her tongue around the head and is about to take him in when his hands grasp her shoulders, stopping her. 

“Not… ah, not tonight, Scully.” His voice is strangled and he’s panting already. 

She smiles widely, knowing that with barely a touch, his own ministrations on her give him almost as much pleasure as it does her. She releases him and traces her hands along the length of his ribcage, grazing the tips of her fingernails over his skin, pausing to brush over the peaks of his nipples. 

As Scully continues her meandering course over his body with fingers and tongue, Mulder slides upwards on the bed, starting to pull away from her. Before moving away he grabs her hands in his, squeezing them and bringing them to his mouth for a tender kiss. Their eyes lock, an understanding passes between them that sends a thrill up her spine.

Mulder reaches around and arranges the pillows behind him as she sits up on her knees. He turns towards her and sits on the bed cross-legged in front the cushions, beckoning her with a crooked, sexy smile and a gentle touch to her arm. 

She kneels around him, straddling him, hovering over his cock. She reaches up within herself for some lubrication, coating him before she guides him to her entrance. Mulder’s hands brace her hips, his forehead presses against hers as they anticipate this moment. Their eyes connect as she settles his full length inside her with one fluid motion. Finally.

Scully’s stretched to the point where pain mixes indescribably with pleasure. She feels like he fills her up from head to toe--she’s never been more complete. Her eyes close, the emotions welling up from her chest threatening to spill over. 

After what feels like eternity and a singular moment, she opens her eyes, Mulder’s face mere inches from hers. His right arm is holding her close, wrapping around her back, his hand coming to rest at the nape of her neck, surrounding her with his warmth. In his close embrace, she feels secure, protected. 

“Hey.” Mulder smiles slightly, a wonder and shyness to his expression she wasn’t expecting.

“Hey, yourself.” Scully giggles softly, enjoys that she can look directly into his eyes from this position, that it’s so easy for them to kiss each other. As she presses her hand against his chest, she feels his heart beating wildly, matching her own. Their breaths coming in soft pants. Their lips touch gently, and they begin to move.

The intense feeling of his cock thrusting urgently within her is such a contrast to his gentle hand caressing her back, grazing the shell of her ear, the curve of her cheek, the soft skin of her neck. It’s her undoing, this duality of the man she loves - his intense passion and aching sweetness. She gasps as she kisses him, her desperation rising alongside her impending orgasm once more. 

His mouth on hers, teeth clashing, lips pulling, tongues pushing and exploring. He tastes like her and like him, the mingling of their togetherness a unique flavor that she nearly forgot these past weeks. She gasps at the familiarity of this moment. Tears well in her eyes, fall down her cheeks and she licks the saltiness from her lips.

Mulder’s hand moves up to cup her cheek, brushing the moisture away with his thumb, he looks into her eyes, concern and love etched into their golden-green depths. 

“You okay, Scully?” He stills her movements, caresses her neck and shoulders with his other hand.

“Mmm…” She has trouble forming words, so she smiles widely, bites down on her swollen lower lip and nods her head. She grasps the strong muscles of his shoulder and neck, and moves once again, faster this time, desperate for release. Her mouth latches onto his, sloppily lapping and sucking at his lower lip.

Scully feels the burning in her thighs at the effort of their lovemaking and she adjusts slightly. Mulder laps at the sweat gathered along her brow, kisses along her throat, the side of her neck. When he nips at the sensitive place behind her ear a jolt of pleasure causes her to shudder and moan. 

He starts to take control, to thrust deeper as her movements become jerky and uncoordinated, his hands moving to her hips to guide and lift her. 

“Love you.” He whispers into her ear, his warm breath tickling her there. He grunts, his voice strained and she can tell he’s trying to hold back, to make things last, to get her to fall again before he follows.

“Oh, God..” Scully can feel the rising tide of her release radiating outwards, her awareness laser focused on the feel of them moving together. One of his hands moves between them to rub her clit at their joined flesh. He thrusts sharply a few times, hitting the spot within her perfectly. And then she’s gone, seeing sparks beneath her eyelids, and a fluttering wave rise from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Mulder’s arms brace her as she rides out the contractions lost in his arms, floating in a sea of ecstasy expanding around her.

His breath soothes her flushed skin as she comes down. He’s whispering words of endearment that don’t quite connect with her brain, but his tone floods her chest with warmth. 

He lays her gently on her back, leaning over her while she quivers and comes back to herself. His solid body pressed against her grounds her in the present, and she nuzzles into his neck, wrapping her arms around him to keep him close, feeling thick and heavy after her orgasm. When he pulls away slightly, she opens her eyes. Leaning on an elbow, he’s gazing at her and moving the sweat-slicked strands of hair away from her face. She smiles contentedly at him, lazily drawing patterns on the smooth planes of his bicep.

He grins back, but this time it’s his eyes that are filled with the tinge of desperation. His eyes close and she embraces him, encouraging him with her caress. Nestled between her thighs, he begins to thrust again, her palms splayed over his upper back, feeling the flexion of his movement. Her nails graze his torso with a feathering touch. She presses her nose into the hollow of his neck, breathing deeply. The unique fragrance of their sweat and arousal conjures up memories of their many times together before this night. It feels historic and familiar all at once.

She lifts her legs to twine around his waist. He grabs one of her legs, lifting it, letting him penetrate deeper. The weight of him on top of her, the sound of their bodies coming together, surrounds her completely. Wanting to give him as much pleasure as he’s given her, she clenches her inner muscles, tugs at his hair, nips and suckles the warm skin of his shoulder.

“Sc-Scully…” he chokes out her name before one, two, three thrusts and he finds his release, his mouth on top of hers in a sloppy kiss as he comes. He pumps a few more times before carefully collapsing on his side, drawing her on top of him.

Scully nuzzles into his chest, listening to the slowing rhythm of his heartbeat. She wraps her arms tightly around him, wanting to hold onto this moment, this homecoming of theirs for as long as possible. When she feels his heart rate return to normal, he goes to move, to get something to clean them up but she doesn’t let him out of her embrace.

“Stay.” She kisses his neck, tasting the salty tang of his sweaty skin. “Stay.”

Mulder caresses her back, his hand moves to the nape of her neck and through her hair. He kisses her more firmly, holds her tighter. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?”

Scully smiles at him, chuckling softly under her breath.

“No, I can’t,” she says, eyes twinkling. 

She kisses him deeply, her hand caressing his hair. She breaks their kiss and looks into his eyes. His expression is unreadable and she feels a lurch in her chest. Her thumb moves over his bottom lip, traces its plush curve. 

Mulder kisses her thumb, grasps her wrist so he can place tender kisses on each of her digits. She can sense him trying to think of what to say and, for a moment, she doubts herself.

He looks at her and there’s a sorrowful hesitance in his eyes. It reminds her of his words from before - how he’s unsure of himself. She wishes she could rid him of his doubts by reminding him of his worth, but knows it couldn’t be quite that simple. 

“Remember, no hiding.” Scully reaches out and cups his cheek, reassuring him with a smile. A thousand words pass between their gazes and she sees Mulder’s expression soften, a small smile finally gracing his lips. She nuzzles the skin below his jaw and sighs, relieved. 

“Find me if I do, Scully.” Mulder whispers into her ear, trails his hand along her back.

Once their bodies cool, Mulder ventures into the bathroom, returns with warm cloths to clean them up and a glass of water for them to share. His tender care, his focus on her pleasure, how could she ever doubt his love for her? His eyes tell her everything she needs to know, gazing at her with the love she thought she’d lost.

He wraps them in his light duvet and holds her close, gently tracing patterns on her shoulder. Scully buries herself in his chest, sighing contentedly at his closeness. 

“So, uh… seriously, Scully. I’m wondering if I should stick around more, you only seem to experience strange things when I’m not around. Feel like I’m missing out.” His voice is teasing but she hears the vulnerability hidden between his words. 

She leans up to look at him, kisses his lips and meets his eyes with a serious expression.

“I’d be okay with that.” 

“Yeah?” Mulder brushes his thumb over her cheek. 

“Definitely.” They both grin widely, finally acknowledging to each other what they want, what they both need. Pressing her face close to his, she kisses his cheek and jaw before laying back down. 

Mulder kisses the top of her head, sweeps his hand through her hair. His touch slows and stops, his breathing even out, but she stays, just a little while longer.

There’s things still left unsaid, but that can wait until tomorrow. Despite the fear she feels about fully exposing herself to him, she’s eager to take this next step with him into their future. 

She’ll have to leave before morning and she feels strangely regretful about it. Usually after an evening together, and always on a work night, they would leave before dawn. They would return to their empty apartments by themselves, not wanting to let their independent lives be disrupted by their intimacy. But things feel different now, like they're locked together, united even closer than before. She’s been denying herself so much by trying to hold onto the person she was. Things must change, within herself and between them, and for the first time Scully is at peace with it.


End file.
